


Protecting Each Other

by Lil_leels



Series: DA: General/Random [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 13:58:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6707044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lil_leels/pseuds/Lil_leels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This isn't finished.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Protecting Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> In a world where Mahariel died killing the archdemon.
> 
> Fenedhis Lasa - common elven curse - similar to crap
> 
> Ma melava halani - You helped me 
> 
> Na venhallin - Are you a friend of the people (elves)?
> 
> Ir abelas Venhallin - I am sorry friend of the people (elves)
> 
> Vhenallin - Friend of the people (elves)

Máiréad awoke with a gasp, leaping from her bedroll. Sweat trickled down her face and her eyes searched wildly about the tent she was sleeping in. The daggers she slept with had come unsheathed in her fear.  
  
When her surroundings had been searched carefully, Máiréad carefully sheathed the daggers. There were currently three other occupants in this particular tent. Scout Harding slept soundly across from Máiréad. She murmured something in her sleep and turned.  
  
The quartermaster, Therin slept on Máiréad's right, closer to the tent flap. And one of Leliana's agents slept across from her. The tent itself was rather barren save the four bed rolls and their chests of things which could remain here in Haven when they were in the field. Until the business with the redcliff mage's and that warped future, Máiréad had, had no issues with the arrangement. She liked Harding immensely, enjoying the dwarf's perspective and dry humour. Therin and the agent were both respectful and unassuming. It had been a good arrangement. But now with almost nightly nightmares, Máiréad found the arrangement to be rather lacking. Primarily in that her position was too far from the one person whom she felt she owed her protection.  
  
Máiréad grabbed at her heavy blanket and quietly left the tent. Just as she had the night before, and the night before that. She slipped out under the stars, allowing the fresh cold mountain air to chase away the last of her nightmares. Then she wound her way around the various tents, up the steps, and found her favourite chair by the spymaster's tent. The chair was far from comfortable but that was precisely why she had chosen it. She would sit cross legged, with her blanket wrapped tightly about her maintaining a silent watch until the first stirrings of servants then she would quietly disappear back to her tent with no one the wiser.  
  
As Máiréad settled into her post, the events of that terrible future rose to mind once more. She and Dorian had fought their way through endless demons, stumbling about the castle. They had found soul after soul of the inquisition, sickened or dead from the forced injection of red lyrium. She had held the hand of Fiona as she died and had seen the bodies of most of her comrades. They had all died horrible deaths. It was as despair began to settle in that Máiréad had heard a scream of pain. She had run towards it with Dorian behind her. They had found a tortured beyond recognition Leliana. The spymaster, it seemed, had been the only surviving member. She had been subjected to torture devices, mage's, and cruel experiments. She had proven to be 'resistant' to the effects of red lyrium. When Máiréad had entered the room Leliana had snapped the neck of the person torturing her. Once freed from her restraints she had given every bit of relevant information she had and lead Máiréad and Dorian on a mad dash to Alexius. When it was revealed that the Elder One was there, Leliana had thrust the two away from her and told them to return to their own time, saying 'I'll give you as much time as I have arrows.'   
  
When the demons began pouring into the hall, she fired shot after shot, her arrows being firmly placed in eyes and throats, certain to end the advance of her targets. Then an arrow sunk deep into the spymaster's shoulder. She cried out, faltering only a moment before continuing. A second arrow lodged in her thigh. A third followed. And yet still Leliana kept moving. Her last arrow had sunk deep in the throat of a particularly nasty looking enemy and she pulled out her daggers. The enemy archers, at last trained their bows on the bard as Dorian opened the time rift. The last thing Máiréad saw was an arrow-peppered Leliana throwing daggers as she fell forward to lie in a puddle of her own blood, enemies felled all around her.  
  
Máiréad had stopped that future. Prevented it. But the knowledge remained: Leliana, however fearful she may be, had died for her. Máiréad felt she owed Leliana something. Everything, actually. The Inquisition owed her everything. Máiréad sighed deeply. Her dreams more or less reflected the horror of that reality with one small difference. At the last moment, Leliana turns to Máiréad and she watches as blood pours from the corner of Leliana's mouth, a sure sign of blood filling her lungs to drown her. Her eyes beg for me to help her. To take her with me. To save her.  
  
While Máiréad had thought, the sun had begun to wake. The first streaks of dawn grey were filling the sky. Below her post smoke from the fire's of servants began. She stretch slowly, working the cold and the numb from my limbs. When she turns to leave, she walks almost directly into Sister Nightingale.  
  
'Sis-Sister Nightingale?!' She murmurs, trying to backpedal.  
  
'Llavellan - a moment please?' Leliana murmurs. Her voice is low and soft. Máiréad bowed slightly, granting the request. Of course, anyone with sense was inclined to grant Nightingale her way.  
  
'You have kept this post for the last several weeks, no? At first I assumed restlessness but then why this same spot? And why for so long? When it continued I sought answers but seemingly no one knew you had been doing it. Even my own agent had not noticed you absent from your bed. So now I come to you.' Leliana says this all in an even tone. She allows only the slightest hint of confusion to lace her voice.  
  
'I.. Uh.. Like the view my Lady'  Máiréad says weakly. It's a lie and they both know it. Leliana shakes her head, indicating she won't believe the falsehood.  Then she leads Máiréad to her tent, opening the flap and beckoning her in. Máiréad follows uncertain as to whether she is to be a guest or to be interrogated.  
  
When they enter Leliana indicates that Máiréad sit. When she does, Leliana says, 'Talk. If you doubt my loyalty or my capability, tell me.'  
  
Suddenly Máiréad realises what Leliana must be thinking - that Máiréad was guarding against Leliana. She shakes her head fervently, her shaggy hair flopping in front of her eyes. 'Leliana. No! I know better than most how committed you are to this cause. I... I saw you die for it.'  
  
'Then why do you guard my tent?' Leliana asks, surprise in her voice.  
  
Máiréad ran her fingers through her hair. Trying to find a way to explain. ' _Fenedhis lasa_.' She murmurs under her breath, cursing herself for having been caught. At last, she gathers her courage and says. 'I am not guarding your tent.' Máiréad lets out a long breath before plunging in, 'I guard you, Sister.'  
  
'You. Guard. Me.' Leliana repeats slowly, clearly confused. 'Why would you do that?'  
  
' _Ma melava halani_.' Máiréad says under her breath, not intending for it to be heard, much less understood.  
  
Leliana's eyebrows arch and she says 'I helped you? How?'  
  
Máiréad looks genuinely surprised. She had no idea that Leliana could speak elvish. ' _Na vhenallin_ Leliana?' She asks. Leliana nods but says nothing. Máiréad hangs her head and says ' _Ir abelas vhenallin_. I did not know.'  
  
'I do not make it common knowledge' Leliana says with a small shrug. 'You said I helped you....' Leliana prompts.  
  
Máiréad keeps her head hung and her eyes on the table. 'You did. You died for me. I left you to die for me. I owe you everything.'  
  
Leliana's eyes soften immediately looking at the elf before her. 'You mean in that future which never happened, no?'  
  
'It did happen. I watched it happen, lived it. And I failed you. I have a second chance now. I will not fail you again.' Máiréad says passionately, still refusing to meet Leliana's eyes.  
  
'You did live it but the fact that you and I are back means that you did not fail me at all, no? You brought me back, you changed that future.' Leliana whispers kindly back.  
  
Máiréad finally looks up, wet green eyes meeting blue eyes which seem uncharacteristically kind. 'Leliana. I can't help it. I watch you die every night in my dreams. When I wake... I need to convince myself that you are still here. Still alive. So I come here. I guard you while you sleep. It is the only way... to find peace.'  
  
Leliana looks away. She is thinking, remembering a time long ago. A different time, a different elf - but still the nightmares. When it had been Mahariel, Leliana had a solution. A very agreeable one. To share a bed roll. It had been wonderful and Leliana had believed then, truly believed, she would never offer herself to another. But that was before the landsmeet, before the battle for Denerim, before the archdemon. Mahariel had died, she had left Leliana alone in the world. She hadn't meant to but it had been the only way to end the blight. Leliana glances at the elf before her now. Her hair is ruffled and unkempt, from a night of tossing in her sleep and nervous fingers dragging through it. Her skin, normally a dark tan, had a sickly pale look to it. Her eyes had dark shadows, her lids were droopy. Máiréad had said that she had, had nightmares since redcliff which was almost two months ago. Leliana had first caught the elf guarding her near a month ago but she easily could have been doing so all along. Leliana pursed her lips, unhappy with the amount of sleep their supposed hero had lost on her behalf. 'How many hours of sleep do you get at night? It surely is not enough.'  
  
Máiréad flinched. 'No,' she admits, 'It is probably not.'  
  
Leliana hides a sigh and steels herself to do what she must. 'This cannot continue Llavellan. You need sleep and I do _not_  need a guard.' When Máiréad goes to argue Leliana holds up her palm, stopping the elf. 'But I recognise that you need to be at peace in order to truly rest. I suggest we rearrange the sleeping arrangements. If you wake and can simply see me laying in the tent with you, you should be able to sleep again, no?'  
  
'You're suggesting we be tent-mates?' Máiréad asks.  
  
'I'm suggesting a restructuring of the sleeping arrangements. It probably isn't good for the hero to sleep with the common folk.' Leliana says tactfully. 'If that places us in the same tent until your nightmares are a distant memory, so be it.'  
  
Máiréad considers the spymaster. She likes her tent. Likes that her comrades are easy going. But to rest, truly rest, knowing that Leliana was safe.... But to just change sleeping arrangements? Was it possible? Would that not cause rumours? She didn't want to cause headaches over a little nightmare. 'You can do that? Just rearrange things?'  
  
Leliana smirks, 'I am a very good spymaster Llavellan.'  
  
Máiréad blushes, pink filling her cheeks. Leliana thought it looked rather good on her but said nothing. 'Of course you are _Vhenallin_. I didn't mean... I just... Can we avoid the rumour mill here?'  
  
'Ah.' Leliana says, 'You mean your dazzling reputation should not be tainted, no? Our Lady Ambassador can handle that easily as she is required to make a number of sleeping arrangement shifts regularly to accommodate our guests.'  
  
'My dazzling reputation? I have a dazzling reputation?' Máiréad asks.  
  
'Of course. You are Andraste's chosen. You are the most chaste, most virginal person alive. Did you not know?' Leliana teases. 

'Oh... that's... alarming.' Máiréad says, contemplating the horror of that statement. 

Leliana laughs at the look of horror on Llavellan's face. Máiréad grins slightly in return, thinking perhaps things wouldn't be quite so... scary... as she envisioned. 'Come Herald, let's go eat and then we will have Josephine make the appropriate arrangements.' 


End file.
